


Moment in Moonlight

by Anonoux



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Prekerb, The time before Shiro got fucked over at any given chance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Very vague makeouts, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:06:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonoux/pseuds/Anonoux
Summary: "An owlish gaze meets charcoal, and the two of them are left blinking at one another before realization sparks in Keith.Shiro wanted it too."





	Moment in Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> This work was based off of [this thread](https://twitter.com/gaIrakeef/status/886419544876732416) from [@gaIrakeef](https://twitter.com/gaIrakeef) on Twitter! Sorry if it's not all that good? This was written and unbeta'd so if there's any mistakes lmk!

There was an incandescent glow as the night went on, Keith noted.

With the curtains drawn back and the blinds open, the moon’s rays bathed the dorm room in its pale hue; almost casting a soft spotlight on he and Shiro as they lay there, as though they were the only two in that moment. As though time itself stilled. Though with the lazy ticking of the clock on the far wall, they knew that it was merely an illusion - that Keith had to get up for classes for the next day in a few hours, their curfew having passed a while ago. But given the way that he didn't bother to move, still in the Garrison uniform and lazily laying next to Shiro in his bed, it was evident that Keith didn't give a single damn, especially when Shiro was in the same boat as he; boots lazily kicked off and lay at a heap on the ground at the foot of the bed, hair mussed beyond belief, and the moonbeams that shine through the opened window cause his forelock to practically glow, leaving Keith wondering how he’d look with hair of a lighter color.

They spent the majority of the night simply speaking in hushed tones; the both of them laying on their sides facing one another as Shiro murmurs stories of back home, of he and Matt’s first encounter at the Garrison, of everything. And Keith hadn't minded it in the slightest, mesmorized by the stars that shone in Shiro’s eyes as he spoke about his yearning for potential missions, of all the galaxies he could see before his very eyes as he does so. He talks about his love for the unknown and vastness of space, and Keith can't help the small, adoring smile that adorns his features at Shiro's insistence that “There has to be aliens out there, Keith. Has to be.”

And it seems that throughout these stories, Shiro would become more tactile, a hand reaching out to grasp at Keith’s wrist whenever he wanted to emphasize a part in his story, or scoot his head forward whenever he got to an exciting part, to the point of them sharing a pillow and nearly breathing in one another's breaths. And it should be a weird thing, but Keith can't help himself minding as he curiously wonders if this was all purposeful, the touches and Shiro's momentary staring before continuing on, as though he was pausing for dramatic effect.

But eventually, the soft stories and Shiro’s murmuring had come to a stop, eyes flickering between both of Keith’s. 

“You should go sleep,” he whispers softly, the tone in his voice so sweet that Keith can't help the way his lips twitch up, his feet playing with one another mindlessly as a means to channel out his nerves.

“Too lazy to get up,” the younger breathes the excuse out, mauve gaze trailing along Shiro’s features, eyes following the curvature of his entire visage, straight down to the curve of the bridge of his nose. And Keith couldn't help but find the sight of him stunning. Couldn't help but find Shiro to be breathtaking, and his own cheesy thoughts cause him to become flustered, as though he feared that Shiro could read each one of his thoughts. Small laughter bubbles from Shiro, and he's offering a small grin, cheekbones rising and causing his eyes to narrow with the action, and Keith couldn't even find the time to actually admire the sight of it because the other was reaching forward, fingers entangling in only tresses.

“Your hair was sticking up,” Shiro offers, and Keith almost wishes that the lights of the room were on, because he could swear that there was a slight dusting on his cheeks afterwards, which only tempt Keith to run a thumb over them, as though he’d be able to feel the flush.

And, yet, Shiro’s hand doesn't retreat. It remains in place, index finger quietly wrapping the small tuft of hair around it, and Shiro’s gaze falls toward it, Keith’s own falling down to look at smiling lips.

Silence falls over them for a while, their eyes not meeting during the entire ordeal as tension slowly fills the room; the sound of their breathing and the slow ticks of the clock only filling the room. And what actually breaks the bubble is when Keith unintentionally licks at dry lips, Shiro’s eyes flickering over to eye at the movement, before lifting up to catch where Keith was looking. An owlish gaze meets charcoal, and the two of them are left blinking at one another before realization sparks in Keith.

Shiro wanted it too.

At that realization, Keith blinks a few times, gaze falling almost lidded as it becomes daring, as though he's probing the other to make the first move. And Shiro simply smiles in return, a certain look of nervousness fluttering in his eyes as his hand eventually stills in raven hair. There's a breath of reluctance between them, the sight of Shiro overwhelming Keith as he flutters his eyes shut, leaving it up to the older to make the decision.

A second goes by. Then two. Suddenly there's a twang of anxiousness that fills Keith. That maybe he was wrong. Maybe he assumed wrong. And his eyes are starting to open, mouth parting to release an apology, before there's a warm breath ghosting his lips, leaving Keith’s own to hitch, body tensing some.

And suddenly lips press against his own.

It was simple, the kiss. A soft press of Shiro’s to his own, yet Keith finds himself burning like the sun - like the Eta Carinae, which was cheesy considering he only remembers the name due to Shiro laughing as he corrects Keith’s butchered pronunciation, but it's fitting. And Keith can't help but have his toes curl in giddiness at it as he tilts his head up, reciprocating, both of the corners of their mouths turning upwards as the chaste kiss, and Keith swears that he can feel time come at a standstill; the clock's ticks no longer registered as the sound of blood rushing in his ears takes over, the feel of Shiro's heart under his own palms as he presses them to his chest during his shifting to become closer. And it just… felt so right at the moment, pressed against one another in their own embrace, limbs entangled as they’re left to their own devices; mouths exploring their own galaxies as the stars remain in Shiro’s gaze.

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: My friend Jazz drew fanart for this? I'm? Please check out his work [here!](http://tilttudraws.tumblr.com/post/163114514620/they-spent-the-majority-of-the-night-simply/amp)
> 
> Feel free to talk to me about Voltron/Sheith at [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/NSFeW)


End file.
